


Predicament

by alwaystakingrequests



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Embarrassment, Exhibitionism, F/M, Horniness, In Public, Interspecies Relationship(s), Magical Accidents, Mildly Dubious Consent, Secretly Liking It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaystakingrequests/pseuds/alwaystakingrequests
Summary: An accident during some sparring leaves Panne in a difficult situation. Robin just seems to make it worse.Small story set during the two year timeskip. Might end in sex, might not.
Relationships: My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Velvet | Panne
Kudos: 18





	1. Unique Situation

# Predicament

It was an embarrassment.

Not for Panne, but for the many other members of the Shepherds. She couldn't blame them, though; she was the only one who could see in the dark, even without the help of the moon that shone through the trees. They were also unused to prowling about in an uncleared forest during nighttime. The taguel could have blamed them for that lack of preparedness, but seeing as the whole point of this exercise was to improve their skill, or so Robin said, it would only serve to further sour the mood of the confounded retinue.

 _Robin_. The tactician. Panne held a hand over her mouth to stifle a scoff; it was a child's mistake to make noise when the only sense the prey had was hearing. He seemed so eager and clever when he made the announcement in the barracks, that they were going to be attempting a special drill. "A competition," he claimed, "to see how well our troops can survive in the dark." Though, there was no killing allowed for these soldiers: instead, they had all received special banners, strips of cloth that hung around the front of the waist, that were to be claimed from another on their defeat and brought in to the base camp, should one be able to find it. Survival seemed to be something so important to the tactician: he had been offering meetings on all parts, the making of torches, discerning whether water was clean or stagnant, how to tell whether a cave housed a Bear or a Risen. It irritated the taguel. Soldiers as a matter of course had to know how to make and break camp, but to the tactician it was as though any circumstance that he did not prepare the Shepherds for was an invitation of certain death, something he refused to abide. Whatever compelled him to make those absurd plans, it was never put to waste: as far as Panne knew, not a single member of the retinue had been lost under his command. Dull as the task was, she had to lend some credence to the possibility that this task may make her comrades more prepared for a night attack... and she did enjoy the chance to take human trophies. The taguel had already claimed three from her peers.

A branch ahead snapped, and the huntress crouched, moving low into the undergrowth, prepared to claim her fourth. Another twig trodden underfoot; her prey was getting closer. The tree line thinned here, the leaves opening up just enough to present a series of grassy bushes, congregated in a circle, a community of shrubbery meeting to stargaze. Only a few thin trees prevented the activity, and the small hints of green and brown amidst Panne's gray-shaded night vision told her that the light of the full moon above gave even humans a small degree of sight. The trees opposite her bloomed with color, firey tones of yellow and orange, drawing the taguel to shift and crawl behind the largest of the shrubs. The source of the light eventually revealed itself, first through the treading on the grass, and then through the motion of a certain pointed hat. The taguel was surprised that Miriel hadn't been eliminated yet, though the bespectacled mage's use of magic doubtless helped her. Slung over her hip was the light's generator: a red tome, its cover emblazoned with a spectacular sun, gentle sparks dancing around the book, whirring into arcane symbols, then winking out. Panne seldom understood magic, but Miriel had used her tome of Fire to create light without even a torch. As the mage crept forward, Panne buried herself into the bush in front of her, clenching her jaw.

Eventually, Miriel arrived in the glade, looking upward. In her hands was another tome; at this point, though, she was turned away, and so Panne could not discern what it could have been. "Fascinating," the mage said, taking a slow look around the bushes. "The shrubbery here appears to have arranged itself in line with the natural sequence." Miriel moved towards the farthest and smallest one, back now to Panne, pacing around the circle. "Here there are... thirteen... in another row, eight... and five... three, two..." In so little time, she had already gotten through so much of the circle; Panne crouched down, rustling the leaves in just the smallest of measures, readying a tackle. Miriel paused, her pointed hat tilting to one side, then went on counting. "...One, then... well, that's the rest. And the area within contains a significantly lower concentration of trees, as well. And--is that a nearby cave? ...Tch. Discussing one's observation's with oneself, aloud, where an enemy might hear," she chastised, the mage pacing within twenty, fifteen, ten feet of the bush. "Miriel, what would Mother say...?"

Now was the time. Panne pushed through the growth, the incredible bulk of the bush being a lot for the taguel to move through, the rustling bows generating a myriad of motion and noise. Finally, though, she got through to face Miriel-  
  
"GAH! BEAR! Predate Arcwind!"

Runes flashed, sigils spun, and before Panne could gain a glimpse of Miriel's outstretched palm, she was enveloped in a whirlwind of green, the magic blades colliding with her and scraping, slashing, and cutting. Air whirled around the taguel, and though she willed her arms to move, the arcane wind that had been conjured blew her back into place. Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the flashing ribbons of verdant wind came together, the energy coalescing into a single form and thudding into Panne's waste with a _crunch_ , throwing her back against the bush. Then, only a weak green circle remained, dissipating as the magic returned to the ether. The huntress groaned, then furrowed her brow as Miriel approached, saying something that the rabbit-eared woman certainly heard, but paid no attention to. "Spare me your apology," she puffed, slowly picking herself off the ground. Though Miriel's magic had demolished many an enemy general before, Panne felt unharmed, if quite sore. It was natural, though: of course, the taguel were more resistant to magic than other humans were.

"Very well," Miriel replied, leaning forward and grabbing the banner that Panne had tied onto her belt. She raised her eyebrow, tilting her head to one side. The mage's face was red, much like her hair, certainly out of shame for mistaking Panne for a wild animal rather than another competitor. "...oh, my, Panne. I am unsure if I may keep my remorse from you, in the end. Arcwind is powerful magic, suited to the annulment of others' lives. I implore you to seek medical attention at our camp, by way of Robin. In either case, your participation in this endeavor _has_ ended," she stated, holding up the seized banner with lips in a thin line. "I would accompany you on the return venture, to ensure the lack of any adverse effects."

Panne grunted, maneuvering herself around the bushes and looking up into the stars. While the blow had knocked her onto her behind and disoriented her, a bit of stargazing allowed her to 'retrace her steps,' and she glanced over her shoulder at the mage. "I am unharmed. Your magic did not mark me as harshly as you believe it to. Robin will know of my loss, and should he ask, I will explain to him your error. You may follow me back to camp."

"Gladly," the mage muttered, her voice low. At a distance of fifteen feet, such a remark may not have been heard by a human, but Panne could hear a human's _heartbeat._ A whisper was nothing. The meaning of the remark was something else altogether; the huntress put the confusing utterance out of her mind as she began to traverse the terrain again, feeling the strain in her thighs and calves as she made her way through the brush. Perhaps it was what Miriel did with her magic--it was a fatiguing spell intended to put a bear to sleep more than kill it--but this sort of attack certainly did not _feel_ like the Arcwinds that had struck her when she was fighting Gangrel's troops.

Evidently psychic, Miriel broke the silence. "An experimental form of spell, I will admit," she began, colors fading in and out of the taguel's vision as she kept up. "Much like casting Nosferatu... while one saps strength and loans it to the caster, however, this one establishes a more demoralizing, sensory effect. Could you describe to me any symptoms you're feeling, Panne? Any... coldness?"

The taguel stopped to observe the decline before her. Past the small valley was another hill, and atop that, the colorfully-bright tactician's tent, where Robin had informed the Shepherds he would be waiting for them on their defeat, or after about an hour. She wouldn't have been surprised if she later learned that someone got lost and couldn't return. Dwelling on the question a moment, she nodded. "I do. Strange coldness around... my body. An odd, tingling feeling. A soreness, as though from marching. ...no permanent mark. That is all."

A pause. Miriel's breath hitched as she spoke. "...I see. Accept my accompaniment to our tactician's tent, then. My gathered data will be essential in determining any potential treatment."

Panne grunted affirmatively, making the trek down the hill and back up another, then arriving at the tent's entrance. Robin was not a man who required opulent surroundings in nature, or even normally-tolerable surroundings (the man could sleep on the ground after all), but his tent _was_ larger than the rest of them, just enough to include an additional weapons chest and a table for his maps. Panne announced her entrance slightly after she actually made it, finding the white-haired strategist looking over some maps. "Robin." Apparently this night had taken a strange toll on the tactician as well, because when he finally shifted his gaze from a far spot on the table to her eyes, his face was streaked with red. "...Panne...?"

"My banner has been claimed, finally; I will return to my own tent now."

"Wait." Robin blinked, straightening. "Can you--"

"Miriel's doing," she shot back. "She mistook me for a bear. Only after she cast the spell did she realize her mistake."

The tactician's eyes flicked to behind Panne, brow raised.

"That is correct," answered the mage, from behind. "I was reflecting aloud on the subject of some aspects of nature when I noticed a potential habitat of a bear. Recalling your briefings on such, I prepared myself to answer such an animal with a variety of Arcwind of my own design. Such magic would result in loss of balance, rudimentary damage, dizziness, and a general loss of awareness."

Robin nodded, placing a hand over his chin. "That does explain much..."

"That is outrageous," Panne vented, hands planting on her hips. "I found my way back to your camp on my own. I am perfectly aware of myself!"

The tactician nodded again, moving backward, seating himself on the table. His hand dropped from his chin, now pointing down to where her flag once hung. "So, you're aware of how nude you are? How your fur's gone?"

Panne's gaze jerked downward. It was an exaggeration: only _most_ of her fur was gone. What little remained stood as small tufts of brown on the sides of her hips. Other than that, everything was either short or utterly gone, meaning that, for once, Panne's crotch was utterly smooth. Not only that, but it was shown off-- _had been_ shown off--to Robin and Miriel.

The taguel twitched, her hands flying to her waist, a sharp gasp shooting through her lungs. The instinctive motions gave off a small tremble in her and, as she recognized the fact that she still hadn't covered herself, an incredible heat built up in her face--and her loins. She crouched down slightly, noticing the dual feeling, the motion accompanied by a small, clear _discharge_ that jetted onto her inner thigh. Finally registering the solution to her embarrassment, Panne jammed both her hands over her crotch, finally managing to obscure her slit from view. "GAH!"

"...I see. Miriel," Robin began, his voice obviously directed towards the mage, "when do you think that these... effects... will wear off?"

"That is a subject of present observation," came the reply, the bottomless bunnygirl shifting now to look back at her. "It is a period of time that may last from a day, to... perhaps, two years? In either case, it is a condition that is inadvisable for a woman on the battlefield."

As the mage took a breath, Panne interrupted, finally looking up to face Robin, who met her eyes. "You are not removing me from the Shepherds. I am a taguel, not an _animal_. I will be aware when it matters."

Robin raised an eyebrow and huffed, a scoff inaudible to anyone but Panne. "...that's worrying, considering being naked apparently doesn't matter to you."

Panne felt her face flash dark with crimson, stepping toward the tactician with a snarl. "I...!" Apparently tactical wit lent itself to such barbs, as the huntress had to search for the correct words. "...I am still capable on the battlefield, and because of that, I am not leaving."

He took a step backward, seating himself on the table, brow furrowing. "Panne... I don't want you to leave, either. But we can't have things like this just happening in the barracks, for both your sake and the sake of others." His eyes turned towards the tent ceiling, then back to her. "Because of your... unique situation, I have a compromise for you. There's a small manor in Yllistol, just outside the castle grounds, that Chrom lent me to live in. I need to keep an eye on you so you don't embarrass yourself, and since you don't have a home, I'm willing to let you stay there, and I in the barracks. When the Shepherds need to march, I'll visit you, and you can fight on the battlefield. That might also require some new gear to keep your modesty--including clothing..."

She grit her teeth, feeling a pit in her chest sink. "You'd put me in a human dwelling, and make me wear man-spawn clothes?"

"The alternative, which I can't entertain at this time, is to allow you to potentially wander around Yllistol completely naked."

Another flash of heat, and a certain wetness that started to slicken the taguel's fingers. "...ngh. Fine. I will accept your terms, but when my fur grows back, I will not keep the clothing."

"That's your choice," he replied with a shrug, pushing off the table. "I'm sorry that this happened to you, Panne. I'll make sure that you recover from Miriel's magic. Speaking of which..." He moved past Panne, who revolved around to face him, and made his way out of the tent. "I'm going to go check the convoy for some spare clothing. Would you mind assisting me, Miriel?"

"Certainly," the mage replied. "Only give me a moment to confer with Panne about some other potential side effects." The tactician departed at this, with a small nod, and when the flap was closed, the redhead smirked. "I should thank you for your assistance, Panne. This was certainly enlightening for all parties. ...well, at least _I_ feel edified."

The huntress looked over the smug spellcaster, then furrowed her brow, realizing. "...you saw me bare, and you said nothing. You let me present myself to Robin. Why?," she barked.

Miriel's smirk turned to a smile, a rare thing to grace the mage's lips. "I considered it an opportune moment to study the more obscure areas of taguel anatomy." Her face flushed a darker red. "Although I must admit a personal bias on my part. I decided to skew my course of action because what I was observing was... aesthetically pleasing." The mage moved towards the tent flap, raising it. "You may feel free to follow me out, to inform me of your discontent; although, it would expose your predicament..." As the cowed taguel stepped backward, hiding behind the map table, she continued. "...or, you may remain here, while I procure for you something decent to wear."

Without another word, Miriel lowered the tent flap and disappeared into the night. Meanwhile, Panne shifted her hands, now covering her face, sighing--and listening as hard as she could, making sure no footsteps escaped her notice.


	2. Dress

"Well... it's not exactly perfect, but it's got support for you, doesn't it?"

Panne's frown deepened. Somehow, Sumia's words of encouragement failed to comfort her. The pegasus knight shifted, tugging at the sheer, rosy cloth drawn over the taguel's figure. Sumia had apparently outgrown the summer dress over the course of the campaign against the Mad King, and while it did not necessarily fit the taguel quite so well, it was a kindness she was willing—under duress—to accept. It hung just barely above the huntress's knee, the cloth being bunched up in the back due to her stubby tail. A taguel deserved much more than the scraps that the man-spawn were giving her; and yet, as she glanced down at the outfit and shifted her hips left to right, it did not feel discomforting. There was a tightness in the back, but even afterward, it flowed, doing much to keep her free and still covering herself. Had Panne her way, she would never wear the garb of the man-spawn ever... but, had she not, a dress of proper fit, with a cut made for the tail? It would be just like what she would wear as a taguel.

Sumia broke the silence, having received no answer. "I guess it's not ideal... but, clothes are clothes, and that's all Robin asked for, right? No need to mope about it, Panne."

"Hmm? I am not 'moping'," the taguel replied, blinking as she looked up to face the other. "I was thinking about the dress." The name of the tactician stuck in her mind, and her face heated up. Robin had requested that Sumia lend her some spare clothing. Robin, who had dreamt up the idea that had left her functionally naked in the first place. Robin, who seemed to have no problem sizing her up, until there was suddenly a battlefield issue. Robin, who was supposedly so well-minded with logistics and supplies, asked Sumia to lend her this ill-fitting dress. What right had he to direct people around, when she was more than capable of finding clothing or asking her comrades on her own? Blinking, she returned to the conversation. "I suppose it functions. If you've something else that fits me, I would rather try that on."

Sumia's face brightened, then her lips pursed, brow furrowed. "I, actually I didn't bring anything other than that, but..." She straightened suddenly, a finger pointing into the air. "Oh! On my way to the marketplace, I saw such a dress that looked your size! I wanted to tell you about that. I know that the taguel don't care much about money, so I thought I could buy it for you! Just a small thing, between friends."

Panne's eyebrow quirked; she had never considered the both of them friends. "I would owe you a debt for that, Sumia. I could never..."

The pegasus knight scoffed at the rejection, cool hands swiftly finding themselves on the taguel's shoulders and steering her out of her house, until suddenly the pair were both out on the street, the long, paved decline that led down to Ylisstol Square before them. Panne's instinctual grunt of surprise was met with another giggle. "Oh, could you put your taguel pride away for just a second? When you finally get your fur back, you can give me something in exchange that I need. How does that sound?"

The huntress took a moment to breathe. The swift spring wind stirred her hair, braided ears falling back behind her. The road towards the square, surprisingly unpopulated, started stretching out ahead of her. The world seemed to turn forward, and Panne stumbled backward against the wall of her temporary home, grunting. Apparently, Miriel's magic could have had more sudden effects than any of them thought.

The rider panicked. "Panne? Panne, are you alright?!"

The other nodded, quickly, pushing back off of the wall and observing the wide-open marketplace in the distance, the many stucco roofs of the city providing an orange contrast against the gray-white stone of the square. She blinked, looking up; the sky was a clear blue, the sun shining, her straining eyes falling back down to the world below. "Yes, I... I was confused. For a moment. You handled me far too roughly."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry," she replied, giving a small smile and stepping away. "Listen, let me make it up to you by getting you that dress, okay?"

"...yes. So long as you do not steer me like that again," she warned, taking a few tentative steps. Clumsy as she was, Sumia was swift when she needed to be; all the rooms of her home had become some sort of blur in the ensuing period. After a few more steps away from the manor and down the road, she managed to find her balance again, taking deep breaths, with the other following up alongside her. The temporary daze seemed to fade with another shift of the spring breeze, and as her bare feet fell against the smooth flagstones, a smile grew on the taguel's face, a strong smile of confidence. She could overcome the magic; if she could do that, a simple dress was nothing.

As the pair walked down the decline, a step occasionally turning to a stumble, Panne glanced over to the other. "Sumia."

"Hm?"

"Tell me something."

"Sure."

"Usually, the marketplace is teeming with man-spawn at this hour. Why does it seem almost empty, then?"

The rider stopped, her gaze falling over the shops, then furrowed her brow. "...you know, that's a good question. I... oh, you know what it is?" She snapped her fingers, continuing forward. "Chrom said that he was going to hold a ritual of some sort. For the people of Ylisse! Most of the townspeople are probably just out attending that. The Shepherds are supposed to be attending, but... some of us were exempt. Like his wife," Sumia remarked, "who is out doing good works."

"Why was I not told of this?," she puffed, turning a potential stumble into a halt, looking towards the rider.

"Well, it was in the barracks briefing this morning," the other explained, her own stumble just barely prevented from becoming a trip, and a fall. "W-Woah. Robin gives the briefing every morning, remember? You're not around, so I guess you just don't get the information." She frowned. "Come to think of it, you probably should have someone who delivers everything to you, since you're currently recovering."

More of the work of Robin. Panne grit her teeth, stepping delicately as the road eventually leveled out, giving the other a nod. "You're right, Sumia. He should. After you find me that dress, you should find Robin and tell him I need to meet with him."

Sumia reached the level portion of the road, then chortled, pointing. "No need; apparently he's also been busy. Look."

The huntress followed her finger. Yllistol Square was full of stalls, as it always was, the many tapestries and cloths that either signified wares or offered a cover from the sun providing a view striped with reds and orange. What it lacked were those attending the stalls: only a handful of merchants too bored to even hawk their wares to the women stayed and fidgeted, looking over inventories that would likely remain full for the course of the day. With the lack of any foot traffic, the worn grey stone of the market could finally be seen, the ragged stones barely suitable for Panne to walk on. Past a few of the empty stalls, however, was Robin, having a word with a red-haired merchant. Panne could only make out a word or two, but the tactician seemed amicable, calm... even friendly.

All things that Panne saw falsehood in, as she marched towards the mage ahead of Sumia. "Robin."

He gave the merchant a polite smile and, turning, greeted her. "Panne! Good to see you out and about. That dress suits you well. Although the wind does put a bit of a nip in the air," he remarked, his eyes drawing up and down her form.

Panne frowned, glancing down at her chest. Some response in her had read it as a hint that she was exposed again; the taguel felt a little warmth and a stirring inside of her as she folded her arms over her torso. "The dress does not fit me well, and I'm getting a replacement."

"So long as I review it, I see no problem," Robin interjected with a shrug.

"What does that mean?," she puffed.

"Well, as someone who is aware of your situation, I need to ensure that you are aware that you're dressing appropriately." He waved his hand, stepping closer, voice lowering. "So, I need to be confident that you won't be showing off your—"

"Robin!"

Panne jerked around, swallowing harshly, running a hand over her thighs as Sumia ran to meet them. She did her best to dispel the heat building up in her face and ears as the pegasus knight arrived. "Sorry, I wanted to come talk to you with Panne but I tripped and fell," Sumia explained.

"No need to apologize." Robin was back to his calm, open smile. "Your presence reminds me, Sumia: there's a delivery for the Shepherds that needs picking up, a very important one."

The rider's brow rose. "Oh, there is? Panne and I were about to—"

"Get a replacement dress, yes, I know," the mage glanced at the taguel, gaze lingering longer than she wanted him to. "I'm sorry, but Panne's not in a desperate need for clothes, and this really can't wait. I'm currently very busy purchasing supplies, and some pegasus feed that I had requested just arrived. A knight like you certainly knows the way to the stables; could you and Panne bring those over to me? It won't take very long."

"Oh, certainly, Robin! We'll get you that feed," the rider nodded towards Panne, "and then we'll get you that dress, Panne!"

"Excellent," the tactician smiled. Panne's lips thinned, her frown returning. "I'll handle the rest once you've got them."

"Right! Let's be off, Panne." Soon, her wrist was seized, and the streets became blurry from Sumia suddenly jerking the taguel forward as the rider had done before. It was only a few steps before Panne herself finally slipped out of the other's grip, panting as she walked alongside the other. She wasn't strong as a taguel may be, but Sumia certainly had the strength to tug her along; that, and the odd comments of Robin had stuck in her mind, keeping her from resisting. "Maybe next time I could be asked before I'm taken on any sort of mission," the huntress suggested, words laced with a gentle, underlying venom.

"...ah, right. I hardly even noticed; you didn't even get a word in edgewise, did you?"

"No. I did not. You did all the speaking for me. The magic may make some movements difficult, but it did not dull my speech."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?"

"Because..." Panne coughed, stalling. "You did not allow me to!"

"Well..." Sumia looked down, a frown crossing her face. "...yeah, I'm sorry. I should've let you say something about it. I'll make sure we actually get to what we went out here for, Panne. It'll be this one delivery made, and then we'll be done!"

"Of course," Panne answered simply, running her hands through her fur—no, there was no fur, only her hips, and the dress she was smoothing over them, the cloth billowing downward. Robin was wrong on one point: she was in a desperate need for clothes, as opposed to before, when she had so little... a long period of silence passed, during which time Panne's face reddened, and her stride reduced, as they walked along the wide streets of the marketplace.

"Hey, Panne, here we are." Sumia's words brought Panne out of her inner trance, and she huffed, turning to face the rider. A few feet away stood another stall, this one with a red-haired merchant (wasn't she the same one that Robin was talking to?) and a small sign put up on the stall's counter with a painting of a horse's head. "Hello, there, Anna. We've come to pick up Robin's delivery."

"Of course, Sumia," the peddler smiled, turning about and reaching into a great wooden chest. "Robin's already paid for the stuff, so..." She grunted, facing them again and hauling two large, awkward sacks, both arms holding them towards her chest. "all you need's to... take them up to the castle...! Gaaah!" With a grunt, she slammed both of them down onto the table, placing a hand, palm-down, on both of them. "There it is," she panted, "two orders of Anna's Premium Pegasus Feed. Hope to enjoy your business again!"

Sumia nodded. "Oh, we'll certainly be back for more later, Anna, I'm sure." Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around one of the bags and heaved, groaning and stumbling backward. "Okay... nng... P-Panne, I think I can only handle one. Do you mind...?"

"I can hold one," she replied, crouching slightly and bearing the bag over her shoulder. Though it weighed the taguel down, it wasn't incredibly burdensome; her exercise in the deep forests had prepared her for such a moment. "...there. Let's get back to... ngh, Robin..."

The pair set off at a similar pace with a small series of grunts and huffs. As they left, Anna's voice crowed after them: "Try not to spill those, you two! Those bags get stuffed and over-stuffed with feed—they could split open at a moment's notice!"

With silent acknowledgment, the two walked down the road back to where Robin awaited them. Once they had passed far, far enough for them to be out of even Panne's earshot, the rabbit-eared woman looked to Sumia. "...Sumia."

"Hurk," the other grunted, shifting the massive bag so it was now cradled in her arms, the knight bending forward dangerously. "Y-Yeah?"

"That woman. She..." Her shoulder began to grow tired and, with a few puffs of breath, the taguel mimicked the other's motions. "...was the same. As the one talking with Robin. And the one that joined our army."

"Ugh... w-well, not exactly," the other puffed, her pace now a sort of hurried stumble as she tried to keep up with Panne, whose physical prowess allowed her to hold the sack with comfort. "They're... all sisters, named Anna. And they sell... lots of stuff. One big f-family."

"I see," she nodded, brow furrowing as she rounded the corner back to the square. She slowed her pace to allow Sumia to catch up, her gaze shooting back towards Robin. The tactician was still there, although the stall he attended now was without a merchant, dark eyes watching them as they approached. "So, it was her that must have made this agreement with Robin, with her sisters?"

"I guess she could have," the pegasus rider mused. As the spring breeze picked up again, the wind stirring Panne's ears, Sumia gasped, her movements harsh. "Ah, wait, Panne-Whoooa!"

A rough tumble sent Sumia knocking into Panne, the taguel's arms fumbling as she tried to right herself. For a moment, the huntress's hand were knocked from the bag, its weight driving it downward like a stone. Her oft-gloated taguel reflexes kicked in, and she crouched, her hands swinging back around to clutch the sack once more, her hands slipping a bit on the material; obviously a consequence of trying to stop such a heavy item. Sumia was lucky, but less so: her face was planted into the bag, cushioned from the stone by pegasus feed, a low noise of exasperation sounding, muffled, from the burlap.

Panne sighed, idly nudging the bag with her foot, straightening upward as she looked down at Sumia. "...is the bag disturbed?"

"Panne." Her gaze jerked back upward. Robin seemed to have covered the distance between them in mere seconds, so silent she didn't hear him. He ran a hand over his chin, face marked with a smirk as he examined her. "I'm not sure what to say."

The taguel puffed, the wind causing her to shiver; or, perhaps, the odd presence of Robin stirred her. "I would have expected you to ask Sumia if she had been hurt."

He waved his hand in dismissal, looking downward. "No, I'm not concerned with that. Mostly, I'm concerned about your lack of dress. Why wear no underwear on a windy day like this?"

Robin went on, but Panne stopped listening; her gaze jerked to match where he was looking. The proud taguel's flowing dress had blown so far to billow over her waist. She recognized the cool feeling of the wind blowing against her slit now in contrast with the deep heat welling up from it.

"Ngh, I—Gah!," she yelped, crouching slightly, now feeling a familiar blaze on her face as well, her arms lowering, bag just over her waist. "I... ngh, I was busy carrying this," she replied, a rising frustration running against her mind. Here, again, she was showing herself off unknowingly, and now out in the market... She felt her shame grow with the realization that anyone else could see her as well, and a drooling wetness swelled in her nethers.

"I see..." Robin furrowed his brow, looking down at her with a face dashed with pink itself. "...I can see your pussy still, Panne. Gods, are you _dripping_ —"

"Stop TALKING!," she shouted, her noise punctuated by a sharp exhale outward. The huntress straightened, his rough language only making her wetness grow, the tactician's gaze making her tense. Obviously, the bag was not helping her cover herself, and so Panne dropped it. Finally, she shoved her hands down over her slit, knees pressing together, leaning forward with knees apart. Finally, her modesty was covered from the windy breeze; the heavy sack, now unladen, landed on top of the recovering Sumia, who grunted, her head now sandwiched between the tan pillows.

Robin stuck his hands into his coat's pockets, watching Panne's dress billow; when the wind finally died down, he frowned, looking her over. "Well, it's more than clear that you can't be wearing dresses; you can't even remember to wear _underwear_. So, you'll have to go and change that dress for something else..." He raised an eyebrow, challenging. "Unless you want me to help you out of it right here?"

The taguel smoothened out her dress, gritting her teeth; her face burned harshly at his words, but the way he lingered, ready to take a step towards her, seemed to almost signal his intent. He was perfectly willing to push forward then pull her dress off, and just leave her in the middle of the market utterly naked... Robin was right, she _was_ dripping.

"I-I'm alright!"

Interrupted, the pair drew apart, their eyes focusing on the downed pegasus knight. Sumia's trademark feather poked out from between the bags as she pulled her head out from between them, the effort bringing out a small grunt. "We got those two bags of pegasus feed you needed, Robin... but they were a bit heavier than I expected."

Robin gave an idle shrug, his reddened face quickly returning to a pale nonchalance, as though the mage had command over even his emotions. "At least you didn't hurt yourself in that fall, Sumia. I've got a wagon that will be coming through soon, it'll handle them." His gaze flitted back to the taguel. "In the meantime, do you think you could help Panne with her outfit? It seems that dresses aren't quite the best outfit for her. She needs something that will prevent her from getting distracted," he instructed, the innuendos laced beneath making Panne's face burn.

Sumia gave a gruff nod as she stood up, then smiled, facing the tactician. "Can do! ...Oh, wait," she turned her head. "if that's alright with you, Panne? Do you think you should head back so we can find you something better?"

Panne took a deep breath, wincing slightly as she felt a bead of moisture roll down her thigh, praying to whatever Goddess the man-spawn had that the wind wouldn't pick up again. She nodded, eyes turned toward Robin. "...Yes. I have no taste for this sort of clothing."

"It's settled, then," Robin nodded—then turned as the sound of wooden wheels on the cobbled stones sounded nearby. "...ah, that's the wagon, great! I have to go and handle it; farewell, you two!" The mage lingered over Panne, looking her over again, then moved off at a hurried walk.

Sumia placed a friendly arm around the taguel's shoulders and gently steered her towards the hill; Panne was feeling too excited to attempt to throw her off, and so took the direction. "Don't worry, Panne; I know Sully doesn't like dresses very much, either. Maybe if we send for her, she'll get you something that's more comfortable!"

"Hopefully," she murmured, a deep, hot breath pouring out of her as the wind stirred again. The huntress had attempted (under duress) a new change and wholly despised it, in spite of the light slickness her legs were developing. Still, there was hope: Sully likely knew a more proper way to dress.

"A-Ah, um, Panne," the pegasus knight prodded, leaning into her braided ear. "Your dress—the wind—uh, well, you're giving Robin and that merchant a good look of your behind—"

"Grrghk!" Snarling, she reached back and grabbed at the cloth, then brought it inward, making a tight circle around her waist. Her leg trembled, and she leaned into Sumia, feeling herself leak out faster. "I... the spell," she lied, stumbling against the other. "Sumia, could you... support me, up the hill?"

The brunette smiled, having kept her balance (surprisingly), and adjusted her grip on the taguel. "Of course! Anything for a friend! Don't worry, we'll get up to that hill in no time! You know, maybe Robin's right, dresses like these are very capable of blowing like that..."

Panne nodded idly and walked up the hill, trying her best to stop the wet trail, trying not to think of crowded stalls, prying eyes, and fickle wind.


End file.
